


The Tired Bartender

by lillykins



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Bartender AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillykins/pseuds/lillykins
Summary: Yuri hated bartending and he hated Mondays, but maybe this Monday won't be quite so bad.





	The Tired Bartender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxfireflamequeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxfireflamequeen/gifts), [codemama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/codemama/gifts).



Yuri Plisetsky was fucking tired.

Tired of the small bar in a dirty corner of Saint Petersburg. Yellowing linoleum tile lined the floor and half the walls, up to the storefront windows caked with stubborn grime. Yuri used to care about the dirt but the longer he worked here, the more he felt it suited the atmosphere. The bar itself was cracked with age and misuse, holding countless confessions leaked by sodden patrons. People came here to forget. People came here because the bartenders were trained to not ask questions.

Tired of mixing long island ice teas for that stupid Canadian while he arrogantly ran his mouth, desperately trying to pick up anyone that would look at him for more than a few moments. Even the people just stopping in for a night saw right through him and his sad pickup lines had not changed in two years. Why the hell was he even in Russia?

Tired of Saturday nights spent selling vodka shots to stupid twenty-something assholes that always got into a fight. A fight the stupid Canadian would start it by trying to chat one up and of course, they would have to prove their masculinity by throwing the first punch. Ridiculous. Yuri finally resolved the issue by offering a free drink to the person that drug them outside before the fight started. It worked rather well and it was so much easier to comp a drink.

Tired of pouring Stary Melnik for a smelly old man who salted it (oh the horror). This man was Russian. How could he do such a thing to himself? To alcohol in general? Yakov only ever spoke of how happy he was before he moved to Saint Petersburg. Every night, like a damn broken record, his stories would become more and more out of touch the further he was into his cups. When he started crying about his beastly woman, Yuri knew it was time to close out his tab and send him stumbling home.

Tired of the same thing day in and day out, the same bad drinks, the same meaningless conversations, the same boring regulars. The bar paid well enough on the weekend when a younger crowd came in but right now, he was going out of his damn mind. It was a Monday and Mondays always sucked. Yakov was the only one there, just starting on his fifth horrifying glass of piss. JJ was still wherever the hell he went on Mondays (and Thursdays but whatever).

Things changed for the better when a stranger walked gracefully through the door. Every inch of him was covered in an expensive, finely tailored three-piece suit, complete with overcoat and gloves. This man reeked of money. His silver hair glimmered in the light and his blue eyes cut through the haze of boredom. He walked past Yakov at the end of the bar without batting an eye and slid onto a stool near the middle.

This man was there for a reason and Yuri was all attention.

“Hello there, handsome.” His voice was silky and thick. The tone sent a shiver down Yuri’s spine. Things were certainly looking up for the night. “I’d like a Manhattan, top shelf, best you have.”

Yuri’s tired bartender's heart leapt for fucking joy. This man wanted a real drink and finally, Yuri would be able to provide a lovingly tailored drink to someone who truly deserved it. The drink itself was the perfect combination of sweet and bitters stirred gently together with a high-quality whiskey, just as elegant as the man before him.

The stranger’s gloved fingertips brushed Yuri’s as he passed the drink over. Silvery blue eyes bore into his own as the man slowly lifted the drink to his lips and took a sip.

“Just beautiful.” Yuri wasn’t sure if he was complimenting the drink or him and at this point, Yuri did not care. A bead of alcohol lay on the man’s lip and his tongue darted out to capture it. “What time are you off?”

Yuri smirked, he couldn’t help it, tonight would be just perfect.

“Yakov, go home, that’s your tenth drink.” Yuri turned to him and started to play out their nightly routine, praying that he wouldn’t catch on to what was happening.

“JJ hasn’t been here yet.” Yakov looked like he was ready to argue and Yuri wasn’t having it.

“Yes he was, you missed him. Go the hell home.”

Yakov frowned in confusion but eventually gave up and left. Yuri followed him and quickly locked the door. Sure, he was closing hours early but he didn’t expect any customers of worth and this was much too good a chance to pass up. He sauntered back over to the bar, pouring on the charm.

“I’m off right fucking now.” he said, downing the rest of the stranger's drink “What should I call you?”

“Victor.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am sure you can figure out who to blame for this. <3
> 
> Prompt by @shortprints and written with encouragement from @foxfireflamequeen.
> 
> Have a beautiful day.
> 
> *I am going to expand this but I am not sure yet if it will be a series or if this will become a multi-chapter fic*


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